Veelas and Beasts
by Abacus
Summary: Here’s your mission, Malfoy, if you are willing to take it. HD Slash
1. Chapter One: The Proposition

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Title: Veelas and Beasts   
**Author**: Abacus

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Chapter One: The Proposition

  
The dungeon was located in the murky depths beneath the house. Cobwebs clawed the walls and hung almost, if such a thing was possible, in a melancholy fashion from their perches on the stones. They say that houses take on persona of their occupants. In the case of the wizards, this fact is not so unrealistic nor quite so farfetched.  
  
Meet Malfoy Manor, where the winds scream death but the butler nervously, yet nonetheless cautiously insists, "'Tis all your imagination."  
  
It's hell, compressed into one singular structure. One singular, monolithic structure that towers above stretching, menacingly, impossibly yet very much amazingly upright. Currently this mansion was casting a deep ebon shadow over the wide, desolate expanse of the Malfoy gardens, rendering mere, innocent statuettes of angels (ironically enough), deer and squirrels into twisted, grotesque, and deformed images.   
  
The Malfoys, not unlike the rest of the old wizarding blood elite, were rather behind the times. It seemed that they were almost stuck in a perpetual time rut. Their house, a testament to hundreds, quite possibly thousands of years of Malfoy aristocracy- a gothic castle standing erect, untouched by the passages of time.   
  
The only thing that had aged as mentioned earlier, was the dungeons. The overpowering smell of dingy mildew, caked with dust and filled with scent of rotted animal attacked any visitor that set foot in this sarcophagus-like domain. Surprisingly enough, the Malfoy dungeons currently did not house prisoners, nor even humans. The Malfoy dungeons were a treasure troves of creatures, mythical and legendary alike. All very much illegal.   
  
Walk past the caged chimera and the hundred headed serpent and take a turn towards the left past the wooly mammoth and screaming banshee, and you would find a emaciated, faceless veela. Her ghastly figure sitting on the floor and her empty, lumpy, face featureless- except for four ill shaped holes. Apart from one particular slot which housed an eye, the rest were round and pitiless, almost too precise in their placement to be random. The hole that was her nose moved slightly, a motion indicating that she was sniffing the air- although, this action was likely more out of habit rather than actually possessing the ability to smell. Her large oblong mouth opened wide and closed, taking in a series of deep labored breaths.  
  
"Mother."   
  
The veela cowed as a hand touched her shoulder. She turned her face left and was met, nose to nose with her son, Draco. Two guards flanked his sides and they pressed their wands dangerously close to his body. Draco looked as if he had difficulty restraining himself. His adams apple bobbed up and down as he gulped down a sob, "Merlin mother, what did they do to you?" He asked, his normally emotionless face, pained.  
  
The veela, Narcissa Malfoy, the former beauty whose visage rivaled that of the Helen of Troy, stared at him with her one remaining eye.   
  
"Mother?"   
  
Narcissa continued to stare, wishing to speak but unable to do so. She opened her mouth but all that came out was a deep throated gurgle. Draco put his finger over her mouth stopping her from attempting to speak further.   
  
He saw now that his mother was missing her tongue.  
  
---  
  
Draco brushed his hair from his face, irritated. He stood in a room, alone with Voldemort and his two guards.  
  
The vision of his mother's torture ravaged body still flashed rather vividly through his mind. He did not even recognize her when he first saw her in the dungeon. Now, her face was something else entirely. Her body was dirtied, caked with dried blood, naked. Not only did her state hurt her physically, Draco was sure, but mentally too.   
  
For a woman as vain as Narcissa, Draco could not imagine the blow to her pride, her situation must have given her.  
  
Draco asked Voldemort, stone faced, "Was it absolutely necessary for you to hurt her so?"  
  
The edge of Voldemort's lips twitched, evidently amused at Draco's words. "Yes, it was a necessary as a matter of fact. I am well aware that you would not have came back if we did not send you that picture of her- or at least come back to us quite as quickly as you did."   
  
The Dark Lord chuckled.   
  
"Most importantly however, I had to set an example for the other Death Eaters as well. No one becomes a traitor to my cause without paying the consequences. I am sure you were aware of that before you left," Voldemort cleared his throat, "Draco, explain to me first if you want your mother released, why exactly did you decide to turn against us? Do not bother to lie because I will of course, know."  
  
Draco averted his eyes from Lord Voldemort's knowing full well that the Dark Lord would not be happy with his answer, "I just did not believe that you would win the war. I was not positive of course, so instead I left to Durmstrang because I knew that there I would be labeled neutral."  
  
Voldemort's eye brow shot up, "Our side? Lose? Foolish boy. Everyone here on this side of the game knows that, that is highly unlikely."   
  
Voldemort's fingers wrapped around Draco's collar and the Dark Lord pulled Draco closer until they were only inches apart. With a soft hiss, he said, "I may have failed my first time around, Mr. Malfoy but I assure you, I do not plan to fail again. Believe me Draco, if I were not in need of your services right now, you would have been dead long ago. I do not take kindly to traitors."   
  
Voldemort flung Draco back as he let go of his collar. Draco stumbled, nearly falling. For a man who looked as frail as Voldemort, he sure held a surprising amount of strength.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, I propose to you a deal. Do what I ask of you and you will get your mother back."  
  
Draco knew that this was coming without hesitation said, "I will do anything, my lord. Just ask it."  
  
The Dark Lord lips twisted into an overly saccharine smile, "Funny how you are suddenly so willing."   
  
Draco shrugged.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, a second source has informed me that as long as Potter continues to live my life continues to hang on the balance. I cannot risk having him alive."  
  
This was not the first time Draco had heard the news. He could not honestly say he was very surprise. "Go on," he probed.  
  
"Right now, Potter is confined at Hogwarts along with his relatives. Because of an old protection charm caste upon him as a child, Potter will always be safe under the roof of his relatives. Therefore, Dumbledore is adamant about keeping him there and as long as he continues to stay, there are no possible ways for us to kill him.   
  
"There are always charms to lure him out," Draco suggested, not stopping to think that maybe Voldemort had already considered this.  
  
Voldemort shook his head, "It cannot be done. There are many dark magic spells designed for this purpose but Dumbledore, of course has set a spell, curse, portkey and potions tracker. Anything we try to use at Hogwarts, Dumbledore would be alerted immediately."  
  
"What do you want me to do then?"  
  
"Ah, good question. After careful examination of the tracker we discovered a small flaw in the design. The tracker can detect magic but it cannot however, detect natural magic."  
  
Voldemort's eyes shined. 

  
"Before I go on further with my plan, I must ask you, are you able to go back to Hogwarts? Will Dumbledore accept you back to school?"  
  
Draco nodded, "Before I left for Durmstrang, I told him that I wanted to leave because I wanted no part in this war."  
  
"And he actually believed you?" Voldemort raised a skeptical eyebrow, "I know Dumbledore to be a trusting old badger, but the man is hardly a fool."  
  
"Well, of course he did not believe me- initially, anyway. I allowed him the apply the truth serum on me."  
  
"So you are saying that Dumbledore will allow you back to Hogwarts?"  
  
"No, I am not saying that he will. I am merely saying that it's likely he will."  
  
"Ah, that is good enough for me then." Voldemort walked to a little table in the middle of the roomed. He picked up the cup and took a long, cool sip then he turned his attention back to Draco, "Mr. Malfoy, I am well aware of the fact that you are part Veela- and an unregistered one at that."  
  
Draco merely blinked- for the first time tonight, he was genuinely shocked. No one outside his family knew that he was part Veela. His father made sure of it. The Malfoys were suppose to be pureblooded, untainted- if rumor got out that the Malfoy heir was a dirty half-blood…  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
"I have my ways," Voldemort smiled, "Draco, I want you to go to Hogwarts and try the best you could to lure Harry Potter out of the castle- of course, using this so called "hypnotic powers" of your veela abilities. I doubt he would come out otherwise. When you are finally out of the safety confines of Hogwarts do not hesitate to kill him. Kill him instantly. You are a smart boy, Draco, so do try not to be too obvious about it. Any suspicion on Dumbledore's part, could render this plan a tremendous failure. Mr. Malfoy, do this and you will get your mother back, I give you my word. Do you agree?"  
  
Draco was silent.   
  
Certainly... he did not wish to kill anybody.   
  
However, at the same time, he had to admit, he would go at any lengths to free his mother and if he thought about it deeply enough, he realized that if this act could stop his mother's pain, then killing someone was not a very difficult choice. Draco was one to care, in his own distant, aloof way, about family and friends but when it came to everyone else- who gave a fuck about everyone else? Besides, Draco thought logically, if really had to kill anyone, the boy who lived would certainly not be among the last of his list.  
  
Draco stared at Voldemort in the eyes, with his voice clear and enunciated, he replied,  
  
"Okay. Kill Potter. I got it." 


	2. Chapter Two: The Journey to the Lavatory

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Title: Veelas and Beast  
**Author**: Abacus

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Chapter Two: Journey to the Lavatory  
  
Right now, Draco Malfoy was feeling a bit constipated. Looking at him, you would that that he was above all those disgusting bodily functions nonsense, but in truth, Draco Malfoy was only human. Fleur Delacour did it, Draco was sure. Voldemort did it, surely. No doubt Pansy did it as well (although she was more discreet than most).   
  
It was not pleasant business but humans, wizards and even evil overlords alike had to do it at least every once in a while or else where would all those bodily waste go?   
  
No, you could not use magic.  
  
Therefore, Draco padded from his seat to the nearest lavatory on the train. It was during the middle of the night. Usually, the lights in the train would be on about now, but at the moment, with only Draco as the occupant, the train did not bother to turn on the lights. After all, it was only one student. It probably realized that Draco had difficulty sleeping with the lights on, so therefore it turned it off.   
  
The moonlight filtered through the windows, providing light where there was none. As he reached the lavatory and opened the door, the light snapped on and his eyes was flooded with painful amount of brightness. Surprised, his took a step back and with uncharacteristic clumsiness, he tripped over his own foot and fell down hitting his head hard on the tiled floor and loss consciousness instantly.   
  
***  
  
Draco held his wand in his hands, poised. Behind a bush, he hid. He had a clear vision of Potter in front of him sitting alone on the quidditch field with his firebolt beside him. Potter was staring at the sky. Draco could make out his strong profile, a slight bump on his nose- a characteristic mark of a roman general. He could make out the trademark clunky glasses that perched on Potter's nose and the familiar dark hair that hung over his eyes. It stuck out haphazardly, like a halo, around his head.  
  
Something about Potter and those particular traits of his aroused a deep feeling of resentment in Draco. To Draco, Potter was nothing but a walking contradiction. Lucius had taught Draco that appearance was everything. Draco never particularly cared about clothes nor his appearance, but he always attempted to look immaculate, if only to gain the respect of others. Others, Lucius says, respects a man who exudes confidence. Draco, at all times attempted to exude this confidence but it was never enough.  
  
Harry was not immaculate. In fact, he was quite the opposite. His clothes and robes always appeared to fit in the wrong way. His hair was endlessly mussed up, filling Draco with an overwhelming urge to ram a comb through Potters hair or get out a butcher knife, and slash the irritating locks off. Others, however, appeared to find him endearing. Others, even those who are unaware that he was the great oh Harry Potter, looked at him with rapt attention.  
  
If Potter simply opened his mouth, everyone would praise him. If Potter killed a frickin' rat, then everyone will hail him a hero. He was on the magazines, the daily prophets, his stupid, ugly, mug was splashed all over the tabloids.  
  
What about Draco? What about the Malfoy heir? Draco was ten times better than Potter, he knew, yet he never received even a tenth of the attention, praise and adoration Potter received.   
  
Not even from Lucius, his own father, had he received much praise. To Lucius, Draco knew, he was a big fat disappointment.   
  
First year, it was Potter, not himself, who got into the school quid ditch team. Second year, it was Potter, not himself who was the savior who saved groveling Virginia Weasley from the clutches of the evil, giant serpant. Third year, it was Potter, not himself who received a brand new firebolt. Forth Year, it was Potter not himself who was able to join the Triwizard Tournament.  
  
What about, Draco? What about him?  
  
Draco looked sullenly at the boy lying on the quidditch field, wondering what it felt like being the luckiest boy in the world. The luckiest boy who had everything handed to him on a silver plate. He wondered what it was like to be Potter- to be loved and adored. Draco wanted to cut off Potters skin and step inside them himself. Although he would never admit it even if you threatened him with the Cruciatus Curse, he wanted to _be _Potter.  
  
Draco grounded his teeth, angrily. He hated the little bastard, hated him with such a passion, he wanted to cry. Draco stepped out from the bush and starting advancing towards the oblivious boy, he slid his wand into his pockets and replaced it, instead with a deadly knife. "Tonight, you will die, Potter," he whispered to himself, in a quiet, eerie, sing song voice.  
  
In the back of his mind, he wondered could he really kill? Was he capable of killing? He tried to ignore this thought studiously. Potter deserved to die, he thought. Potter needed to die. Draco's urge to kill Potter was only partially due to the fact that one, his mother's life was at stake and two, he genuinely wanted to hurt Potter. At this particular moment, at least, he did not want Potter to be happy, while he, Draco was miserable.  
  
When he reached Potter, his shadow draped over the boys, lying figure. Potter tilted his head, looking at Draco as if he was not surprised. "Hello," he said, smiling. Draco was appalled. Potter did not smile. At least to him, he didn't. Potter continued on, "Funny you're here. I was just thinking about you actually." His smile turned into a amiable grin and slowly, Draco felt his anger abating. 

It was difficult to maintain your anger, especially at someone who was smiling at you.  
  
"Stop that." Draco said, almost terrified. His grip on his knife tightened. Kill him now, his mind raged. He knew elsewise, he would not be able to do this.  
  
Draco swung the knife, only to have it stop inches away from Potter's face. His hands were shaking and his breathing was labored. Potter did not appear perturbed at all and cooly, he grinned. He pushed the knife from Draco's hands gently and said, "Are you okay? You're shaking like a leaf." Potter's hand was still on Draco's hand which was holding the knife. His other hand slid to the side of Draco's face and he cupped his cheek. Potter pulled Draco closer and gently placed his lips over Draco's- into a slow, but earth shattering kiss.  
  
Draco's knife dropped.  
  
***  
  
"Enervate!" Draco's eyes snapped open. What the hell was that?   
  
"You alright there Malfoy?" A deep rumbling voice with a familiar thick accent asked. Draco laid there for a moment. Slowly, he registered the fact that he had been dreaming and soon afterward, realized that, that horrid kiss did not happen at all.  
  
Thank, god.  
  
As his vision began to clear, he saw that he was back at the train. It was still night and by the looks of it- the brightly lit room, the cool porcelain tiles, the numerous wads of toilet paper plastered on the ceiling- he was currently lying on the bathroom floor.   
  
Faintly, Draco registered, that he should be feeling disgusted.  
  
Draco's head turned to the side and saw the big bumbling beast, Hagrid crouching with the grace of a hippo beside him. Draco noted, rather wryly, that the man's hair was as shaggy and as untamable as ever. His clothes were in the same patched, beggar stitched fashion. He hasn't changed a bit. Draco plastered on a disdainful smile, "Hello, Hagrid."  
  
"I found you lying in the lavatory there. Thought you were dead for a minute and then I saw you breathing and realized that maybe you weren't quite dead yet. Looks like you got quite a bump on you noggin there- I stopped the cut on your head but I think pretty soon, your headache would kick in, at least if it already hadn't." Hagrid let out a large laugh, "Better check in with Madame Pomfrey when you get back, Malfoy, or else you might get a concussion."   
  
"Yeah," Draco got up and winced as he felt his head pulsating with pain. His stomach gave a lurch.   
Suddenly then, he realized just why he was at the lavatory in the first place. "Uh… Hagrid, would you mind?"  
  
Draco walked into the lavatory and closed the door partially until it was just this, the door, that separated the two. He stared pointedly at Hagrid, "I have some business to attend to."  
  
Hagrid stared at him for a moment, evidently not registering what Draco was asking. Then suddenly, it appeared to click in Hagrid's mind and his former mask of confusion was replaced now with an expression of dawning realization, "Oh! Uh, I will just be sitting… there then." Hagrid pointed to nearby seat in the train.  
  
"You do that." Draco shut the door.  
  
***  
TBC…  
  
Next chapter will be out before the end of the week.

A special thanks to Immortal Memories, Allexandra Radcliffe, baby chaos, twighlight1

and to everyone who read chapter one. :) Review! 


	3. Chapter Three: Phantom of Hogwarts Part ...

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Title: Veelas and Beasts

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Author: Abacus

Chapter Three: Phantom of Hogwarts: Part 1

"You alright there, Malfoy?" 

Hagrid held the lantern up and it swung and forth, creaking loudly through the silence of the night. The light fell over Malfoy's figure highlighting his skinny and angular frame. As the giant took in the boy's sickly and tired state, he felt a faint tugging of pity. 

__

We will be at Hogwarts in no time, Draco realized. His stomach did a flip flop at the thought of it. He had not stepped a foot in Hogwarts in over two years.

Draco kept his face turned away from Hagrid and instead stared at his reflection in the lake. He saw himself, distorted, rippled with a thin face and tired, haunted eyes. "Is that really me?" he thought to himself. When exactly had he grown so _old_? An angry sort of emotion began bubbling inside Draco. At seventeen he would have the burden of being a murderer. At seventeen, he would have the guilt of going through what others never had to go through in their lifetimes. Before his thoughts went any further, Draco quickly buried it more deeper. Think about it later, he urged himself.

The crickets chirped- over and over and over, driving him almost mad. The wind blew whispering what Draco could have sworn was the words _killer, killer, killer…_ It all made him feel sick and also an eerie sense of foreboding began to weld deep inside him. As the boat pushed forward through the darken water, a small voice in the back of his mind told him that this was a one way ride. He would reach Hogwarts yet he would never come back. 

He was not sure whether or not he should trust his instincts. They were usually proven true. There was, however, a couple of occasions where they were false. He fervently hoped that this was one of those times.

Draco dipped his hand into the water and shivered- it was not because of the cold. "Hagrid," he asked, "Are we almost there yet?" Hagrid was still aware of Draco's melancholy demeanor but he decided to not make a show of it, he replied, "A couple of minutes we will be there." 

As the minutes drew to a close they reached the shore. Together Draco and Hagrid made the familiar trek to the Hogwarts castle. They opened the castle doors and stepped inside.

_____

Draco had spent the remainder of his night at the infirmary while Madam Pomfrey checked for any injuries. He woke up around the afternoon and went to speak with Dumbledore. As it was night time again, Draco made his way to the Great Hall. He was starving.

The smell of pumpkin juice, turkey and the Hogwarts essentials wafted out at him, making his mouth water in anticipation. Back in the days when he was a student at Hogwarts, he had taken the evening meals for granted. After dining at Durmstrang for the past two years and being put on the strict Bulgarian diet, he had grown to appreciate Hogwart's feasts. His eyes took in the familiar scenery- the large velvet draperies, the four House tables and the starred ceiling- and he felt a small stab of sadness as he glanced over to the Slytherin table. The place where he, Pansy, Goyle and Crabbe previously sat was now occupied by several third years.

"Mr. Malfoy, welcome back to Hogwarts." A hand rested on his shoulder. When Draco turned his head back he saw Dumbledore behind him. The Headmaster's hand gave a comforting pat on his back. Draco did not look at him but instead stared at the floor. He always disliked the old man intensely but right now he could not help feeling a twinge of shame. Dumbledore really was a good man. Draco felt as if he was exploiting that. Feeling like an utter arse, Draco mumbled, "Thanks for taking me back."

Dumbledore's smile widened, "It's my pleasure." 

With his hand still on Draco's shoulder Dumbledore steered him towards the Gryffindor table. With horror, Draco realized just whom the old man was leading him to. He saw a group of students chatting amiably with one another. Two of those students, he did not know. The other four he knew to be Seamus Finnigan, Hermione Granger, Dean Thomas and of course, Harry Potter. Vaguely, Draco wondered where the weasel went to. The trio looked slightly lopsided without the red head hovering about. 

Seamus Finnigan was probably the one who changed the most. He adopted a green hue to his hair and now sported around various piercings on his face. Disgusted, Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste. How very _plebian_ it looked.

Hermione had shorn her hair until it was only about an inch in length. It stuck like a wild dandelion around her head. She looked very much like the rabid feminist she probably was. She had matured well, Draco noted. However, he wouldn't touch her with a ten foot pole. It was no secret that Granger was the weasel's fiancé. 

Aside from being bigger and taller, Harry Potter had, oddly enough, not changed at all_. _In fact, while everyone else, Draco himself included, had changed somewhat over the past two years, Potter remained as he looked the day Draco left. Draco frowned. The war was effecting everyone yet somehow Potter had managed to come out unscathed. Considering how Potter should have been the one most effected by this war, Draco could not help but find this a bit perplexing.

Strange.

As Dumbledore dragged Draco into the Gryffindor fold, all talk ceased. They all stared at him surprised. It was probably Seamus who voiced out what they all were thinking. 

"Why the hell is Malfoy here?"

Dumbledore cast a disapproving glance at Seamus. Seamus sunk back into his chair, instantly regretting his outburst- at least in front of Dumbledore. "Mr. Malfoy here has come back to Hogwarts for the duration of the year. I assure you, as I am sure you all are thinking, that Draco here has never been a Death Eater so I hope you all would trust my word on it. Since many of his friends have already left Hogwarts, I would like you six to help get him adjusted again."

Dumbledore nodded at Draco and told him to, "Have a seat." Draco cautiously took as 

chair beside Hermione winced at the belligerent tension in the air. Seamus shot him a heated glare and Harry had a sort of disgusted look on his face. Hermione, on the other hand, looked merely curious.

"Well, for now I have a meeting to attend to," Dumbledore beamed down at Draco and said, "I hope you all can put aside your differences and become well acquainted."

Chuckling, the Headmaster left the table and the Gryffindors and Malfoy watched him as he walked out the Great Hall and the closed the door with a click. All attention was

now focused on Malfoy. Instinctively, his face twisted into a sneer, "What are you looking at?"

Instantly, he regretted his words.

The group suddenly launched into an angry tirade. Seamus, with Dumbledore now gone, hissed, "Why the fuck are you here Malfoy?" Another boy replied, "Probably sent by Voldemort, after all, everyone is aware that he's one of the bastard's minions." 

"Dumbledore actually wants us to _associate_ with _him_?" said another not even bothering to cast Draco a glance. Draco winced. That boy acted as if Draco had some form of leprosy.

For some reason, Draco couldn't help being a little affronted by those words. Although they… _were _true. If Draco was not in the situation he was right now, he would have instantly flung a couple of curses their way and tell them to fuck off. However, right now Draco had a mission and it would not do well to get Potter's friend mad or suspicious.

Draco decided that now, was probably the best time to use that Veela charm of his. Truth be told, Draco never used it before. Not because he couldn't, but because the mere thought of having some veela blood in him, made him feel sick. Mudbloods were disgusting. Draco liked to forget he was one when he could. 

Okay… concentrate. Clumsily attempting for the first time with the skill of a one year old child learning to walk, he tapped into his hidden veela magic. There, it should work now. Draco did not smile often, his father scorned it. So it felt odd when he twisted his lips into a smile and looked up at them with what he hoped to be kindness on his face.

"Sorry for being rude. Uh…force of habit." Draco now tried to look apologetic. For a person who usually had only three expressions on his face: anger, sneer and apathy, he had 

difficulty forming his face into any other expression. He hoped he looked genuine.

No one answered him. He eyed the six Gryffindors trying to garner their reaction. Seamus and the other four boys of course looked at him with the same look of utter dislike, but a slightly dazed look flicked over their faces. Harry had a weird expression on his face and on Hermione's face, the faint look of interest began to bloom into something greater.

Hermione whispered something into Harry's ear. Harry said, "No, 'mione!" Seamus raised his eyebrow and asked, "What did she say?" Harry whispered into Seamus' ear and then a big grin broke into Seamus' face and instantly, he mumbled something back to Harry.

Draco could not stop from scowling. How irritating. They were whispering about him… with him, sitting right beside them. He strained to hear what they were saying but he could not make out anything more than low murmuring. 

Suddenly, Harry look up at him and grinned, "If Dumbledore trusts you, I guess you're not half bad. Anyways, we want to invite you to our midnight meeting tonight."

"Midnight meeting?" Draco asked. Draco did not notice that Hermione had a confused expression on her face as well.

"Yeah, us seventh year Gryffindors do it all the time. It's a Gryffindor tradition. I guess a Slytherin can come too, if it's just for tonight."

"What do you do there?" Draco asked. He was genuinely curious. A Gryffindor tradition? Why hasn't he ever heard about it before?

"We play a game. You will see what I mean later tonight if you come."

"Oh. Okay." What could Draco do but accept? This time a genuine smile broke on Draco's face. _Finally_- operation get Harry Potter's trust was gaining some momentum. Draco decided to leave right now or else risk the chance of saying something stupid and blowing it again.

"Erm. I am going to go now." He yawned for an effect, "I should get some sleep before midnight comes else wise I don't think I will be able to stay up in the morning."

Harry raised his eyebrow, "You didn't even eat your food yet."

"I'm not all that hungry," Draco lied. He was actually famished but he guessed he could slip some food into his dorm later. Waving goodbye, Draco got up and left.

Unbeknownst to him, when Draco walked out of hearing distance, Hermione turned to Harry and punched him on his shoulder, "What 'midnight meeting'? How come I never heard of this before?"

---

As Draco made his way across the Great Hall to the exit a small Hufflepuff girl, evidently not paying much attention to where she was heading, walked right into Draco.

"Sorry," she yelled in horror as she accidentally spilled her pumpkin juice on the blond boy.

"Watch where you're going!" Draco snapped, giving her an annoyed shove. She toppled to the ground and fell on her butt with a loud, "Oof!". Draco didn't give her a second glance and merely swiped the juice off the shirt indignantly and continued to the exit- leaving behind a rather large puddle of pumpkin juice.

If Draco had bothered to look back to see if the girl was alright he probably would have notice two footprints appear in the center of the pumpkin juice. He probably would have noticed, as well, that a trail of pumpkin juice, in the shape of the footprints followed him from behind…

----

To be continued.

The really exciting stuff that was suppose to happen in this chapter was bumped to the next chapter. I decided to split "Phantom of Hogwarts" into two parts because it was just getting too long. With all the work I have right now I don't really have the time to make the chapter more longer then it already is without waiting until next week to publish it. 

I said that I was going to have chapter three out by "next week" and gosh darnit, I always keep my word! :P 

To make up for this "blech!" chapter, I promise chapter four will be super duper good!

And exciting to boot.

I will try to get it out by next week. :D

Special thanks to Immortal Memories, Allexandra Radcliffe, Relle, Emerald Tigriss, fghfddhgh and all those who reviewed so far!

Review!


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